Letters to the Editor
by nodumbbitch
Summary: Rory's got writer's block in Washington, D.C. This letter just ins't transferring from her head to her hand. One-shot.


**Letters to the Editor**

Disclaimer: I own no part in any of the Gilmore Girls. Sadly.  
-skaz is a spaz

* * *

Rory took a deep breath and fell back on the bed. She tapped her pen lightly on her head and threw the letters to the side. Each had Dean's return address printed neatly in the left-hand corner. Half of them weren't even opened yet. She looked forlornly at the binder on her chest and huffed. It was opened to a blank piece of notebook paper. Almost blank.

She couldn't think of anything to write. The single line at the top, the two words, mocked her. She felt like the ink from her pen was laughing at her. It probably would if it had a mouth and nervous system. However, it lacked both.

It was almost blank. Not completely. So she had a start, right? It wasn't much, but it was a start.

She just sat and stared at the paper. What could she say? What should she say? Was there anything _to_ say? Why was it that she could put no words together to form a comprehensive, intelligible sentence? She got flustered every time she thought of something that was comprehensive and intelligible, and was unable to write it down. At this rate, she'd never write that letter.

She looked over at the clock. Its numbers glowed red, saying that it was far too late for her to care anymore. She pushed herself up and placed the binder on her desk, zipped it up and looked over at the sleeping Paris. She flicked off the light and quietly got into bed.

The alarm clock buzzed right in Rory's ear, which was odd, considering the fact that it was usually on another side of the room. Her eyes fluttered open to see Paris leaning over her, holding the clock beside Rory's head. She fought the urge to kick Paris. Instead of resorting to violence, she turned the alarm clock off and glared at the blonde girl over her.

"And you did that because?"

"It started going off ten minutes ago. Now, I understand that you're really tired when you go to bed at three in the morning, but that is inhuman. I had to get you up somehow. We have to be at breakfast in twenty minutes and you're slow."

"Thank you, Paris, I appreciate that."

"Good. Now, go shower. You smell funny." Paris went out the dorm door and left Rory to wake up completely on her own.

She walked over to the phone and started dialing a familiar number, but slowly placed the phone down and bit her lip. Lorelai was probably not awake yet. It was 10 to seven on a Saturday. She slowly picked up the receiver again and started dialing a different number. After one ring, a groggy male voice answered, mumbling "Hello?" incoherently.

Rory's lip trembled as she listened to the person on the other side of the phone shift. "Hello?" he repeated. "Is anyone there?" A pause, and a breath. "Ro-" he started, but she slammed the phone down, and laughing slightly at herself, she got up and went to shower. Before she closed the bathroom door, she sent a lingering glance to the binder on the table.

Rory shook the water out of her hair and once again sent a glance to the binder. She bit the edge of her lip, Molly Ringwald style. She looked over at the phone again, but Paris burst through the door before Rory could do anything.

"Rory! Guess what?"

"What, Paris?"

"I don't really know. I just felt like sharing something, but I have nothing to share. I hope breakfast is good." She jumped onto her bed and looked up at the ceiling. Rory walked to the chair at the desk and sat down. "This trip isn't as great as I imagined it. It might be better." Paris grinned over at Rory. "You seem distracted."

"I'm not."

"Are you sure? I can make good conversation."

"I'm not distracted. I'm just thinking."

"Thinking makes you seem distracted."

"Well, I'm not, Paris, okay?"

"Okay, jeez." Paris got up and looked over at Rory's binder. "What's in there anyway?"

"Just letters. To my boyfriend."

"Really? 'Cause it seems like you've been writing the same letter this entire time, and you still haven't written anything at all."

"I've written a lot. You just don't see me write."

"Also, you haven't opened half of the letters Dean's sent you."

"Paris, we should really get down to breakfast."

Rory picked up her jacket and went out the door.

Later that night, with Paris gone somewhere, Rory wasn't sure where, she finally had some alone time to spend writing her letter. However, once again, she found herself staring at that almost blank page. She had no idea what she was doing, why she even bothered to think about it. She had a boyfriend. She shouldn't be thinking about anyone in any other way.

But she was…

Once again she looked at the page, and it wasn't blank anymore. She wasn't entirely sure of what she had written, but if she looked it over, she'd throw it away. She fingered the paper lightly and looked at the formation of the words. She didn't know what she had written. She didn't want to. She really didn't. She folded it up and stuck it into an envelope. She wasn't thinking, she was just doing it. She didn't understand anything about what had happened to her at that exact moment, but something burst.

A few hours later, the phone rang. "Hello?"

"Rory, good! How are you?" It was Dean.

"I am good, Dean. I'm good."

"Same here. I mean, Chicago is kinda boring, but otherwise, I'm good."

"That's really good, Dean. Uhm, I'm kind of busy, I have to go."

"It's 10 at night where you are. How are you busy?"

"Paris is having a bit of a meltdown and I'm trying to help her out."

"I don't hear her."

"She's in the bathroom. Look, Dean, I'm sorry, but I've got to go." Rory hung up the phone, and looked over at the sleeping Paris. She rolled over in her bed and mumbled something about fish, and Rory looked back at the phone, as if she expected it to ring again. It did. "Hello?" Whoever was on the other line hung up. Rory put the receiver down slowly, and as soon as she moved her hand away, it rang again. She picked it up after a few rings, and heard her mother scream in joy.

"Rory, guess what?"

"What?"

"Sookie and Jackson got back from their honeymoon today."

"Yay?"

"Yes, yay. I told them that you said 'hello' but that would be lying because, well, you didn't say hello, so now you have to tell me to 'Say 'Hello' to Sookie and Jackson for me, Mom.'"

"Say 'Hello' to Sookie and Jackson for me, mom," Rory said.

"Good girl. Now, how has the day been for you?"

"Kind of long. I mean, we spent quite a bit of time in the hotel, which was pretty boring."

"You'll never guess who asked for your phone number today."

"Kirk?"

"No."

"Who?"

"You have to guess."

"I did. I guessed Kirk."

"Fine." There was a pause.

"Mom…?"

"Oh, sorry."

"Who was it?"

"Luke."

"Why did Luke want my number?"

"I don't know, maybe to say 'Hello' instead of asking me to tell you that he said 'Hello.'"

"Right. Mom, I'm kinda tired, do you think I could talk to you tomorrow?"

"Yes, of course." Rory put the receiver down and looked over at her notebook. It was time to write another letter.

Two nights later, Paris ran around the room, panicked. "I have nothing to wear. Nothing to wear! Nothing at all."

"Paris, calm down. What's wrong?"

"Did you not hear me? I have nothing to wear. I have a date with Jamie tonight, and I have nothing to wear!" She threw a pile of clothes onto her bed.

"Okay, so, how about you let me help you? I'm calm, you're not, and I have better judgment at this moment in time. Trust me here." Rory picked up a shirt and skirt, compared them, threw down the skirt, and picked a new one up. "Put these on, and then come out and I'll do your make-up, okay?" Paris nodded and went into the bathroom. When she came out, she handed Rory a make-up kit and Rory went to work.

"Are you always calm about first dates?"

"Well, Paris, I've only had one, so I don't know. Also, considering it's yours and not mine, I think that I would be calm in this scenario."

"Right. Good point." Rory added the finishing touches right as a knock sounded on the door. "Hide. You have to hide."

"Why do I have to hide?"

"So that he doesn't see you and know that you helped me get ready."

"I did help you get ready, Paris."

"Yeah, but… just hide," she said, pushing Rory into a closet when another knock sounded on the door.

As soon as Paris was gone, Rory came out of the closet. She flopped down on the bed and flipped through a Jane Austen book. The piercing ring of the telephone sounded in her ear. She picked up the receiver.

Dear Jess – 

_I can't believe I'm writing this. I can't believe that all of this happened. However, I'm trying to be smart about our situation, if there is one. We kissed. You know this already, I know this too. Nobody else does. So, we could say it's our little secret._

_But I don't want it to be. I don't want to have to hide it. I just felt this rush, or something, I don't know, but I never felt that way with Dean and, I just wish we could do something, anything, about this. I think that ever since you came to Stars Hollow, I've been denying my feelings for you. I can't do that anymore. Whether or not you feel the same way about me, I don't know._

_I can't lie to Dean anymore. I'm handling him when I get home, I think. I just wanted you to know. This is the only letter I've written to you all summer, and it's taken all summer to write._

_Rory_

"Hello?"

"I feel the same way," a male voice said on the other end. Rory smiled and closed her eyes.

"Jess? That's you, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good," Rory whispered. She could tell Jess was smiling on the other end. "Good."

* * *

This idea's been inside my head for months, and I finally got it down, but there are a lot of elements I don't really like. Anyhow, this is the first installment of my writing in almost two months, and sadly, the last for about another months. Exams are coming up, so I'm going to be hella busy for a while. Trust me, though, that there will be more ASAP. 


End file.
